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lyrics

world of fog and brake lights,
coffee at the wrong time of the day,
and an hour or two with friends
you don't remember why you're friends with —
"it's late, it's quite late,
it's getting very late."

the east side jerks awake.
lights go on in a hundred little rooms
and the overpasses coil
like copper wire around some secret center
and look for one to tell their secret to,
but it isn't you, it isn't you, it isn't you.